“Are you out of your mind?” Allie looked at him in horror. “Grady is the last person to push drugs. He doesn’t care about money. He-”
“He cares about his mother,” Charlie said. “And Mrs. Winthrop and Mrs. Wexman and all the rest.”
Allie shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
“I didn’t get it either at first.” Charlie looked so miserable she wanted to go to him, but not until he stopped saying stupid things about Grady. “Grady grows it behind his home, but that wasn’t enough because I knew Grady wouldn’t deal drugs for money. That just wasn’t Grady’s style. But the fraternity kids said we were giving it away, and then I read your notes on drug legalization and the stuff you found on cancer patients. That’s when it all fell into place.”
Allie closed her eyes. “I remember. Pot helps people handle chemo.” Then she had a thought and her eyes flew open again. “Grady gave Beattie pot?”
Charlie nodded. “He’d do anything to help her. And if Beattie knew it helped her, she’d insist on sharing it with others. They’ve been providing pot for the town’s cancer patients. That’s why Mrs. Winthrop’s grandson got nasty with her. He wanted her stash.”
“Oh, God.” Allie put her head in her hands. “And that’s why people bring Grady cookies and things. They’re trying to say thank you.” She tilted her head back and thought for a moment. “Well, okay. Now we know. All we have to do is keep out mouths shut about it-”
“No,” Charlie said. “We can’t. This is illegal.”
Allie gaped at him. “You can’t possibly be thinking of turning Grady in?”
He sighed. “You’re not listening. I’m going to tell Grady I know, and he’s going to turn himself in. It’s illegal, Al. And he’s running out of time. That little Winthrop brat sent the letter to Bill. Everybody at the college knows somebody here is dealing. And I’ve been asking questions. There was that newspaper piece about me being a pusher that made the police start watching me. They know who I’ve been talking to, and they know something’s up. There’s going to be hell to pay, and if Grady turns himself in, he’s at least got that in his favor. It’s too late for anything else.”
“No.” Allie came around the desk and headed for the door. “No. We can stop this. We can stonewall this. Grady is not going to jail.”
Charlie caught her arm. “Don’t say anything to anybody. Let me handle this.”
“Like you’ve handled it so far?” Allie looked up at him, furious. “If you hadn’t poked around, we’d be fine. Who is he hurting? He’s helping people, and you’re going to turn him in.” Allie yanked her arm away from him. “This is the worst. You’re just going to stand there and watch him go to prison.”
“What do you want me to do?” Charlie said.
“You started this mess,” she said. “You should fix it.”
“I can’t fix it. All I can do is see it through to the end.”
Allie looked at him, uncomprehending. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. You’re not even going to try to work something else out. You’re just going to go ahead and do it your way.”
“Allie-”
“Just like Bill,” she said to him, knowing it would hurt him. “Just like your dad.”
His mouth tightened, and then he left the office.
“Boy, I sure can pick them,” she said to nobody in particular, and then devoted all her energy to not crying.
Mark stuck his head in the door. “Say, I just heard about Charlie’s wife. That’s a really bad break, Allie. Let me take out out to dinner.” He smiled at her, looking as gorgeous as ever, and she wanted him dead, too.
“Get out of here,” she snarled.
“Maybe tomorrow,” he said and escaped out the door.
Allie went back to her chair and thought about tomorrow. She had to think of a plan. Soon.
Charlie waited until Grady came into the booth during the news at quarter to two before he said anything to him.
“You look like hell,” Grady said when he saw him. “Take off, I’ll take it from here.”
“I can’t.” Charlie looked at him miserably. “I hate this. You have no idea how much I hate this.”
Grady blinked at him. “What’s wrong?”
Charlie sighed. “I know you give pot to cancer patients. In fact, a hell of a lot of Tuttle knows you give pot away. Grady, it’s all over.”
Grady pushed Sam’s basket to one side and sat down on the counter. “Oh.” Sam poked his head out, and Grady scratched him behind his ears. “Well, that depends. Are you going to turn me in?”
Charlie shook his head. “No, you’re going to turn yourself in. That should work in your favor. With your dad’s lawyers-”
“My dad will disown me,” Grady said, but he didn’t seem too upset at the thought. “What can I do to convince you this isn’t the best way to do this?”
“Anything,” Charlie said fervently. “You have no idea how much I want to be convinced. But this is going to blow any minute, Grady. Too many people know. You’re a lot better off doing this yourself than waiting until they come for you.”
Grady sat looking lost in thought for a moment. Then he met Charlie’s eyes. “Can I have some time?”
“All you want,” Charlie said. “But don’t take too long. You’ll lose the only advantage you have.”
“How did you find out?” Grady asked him as he got up to go-”
“The rumors. Your crop out in back. The chemo. The cookies and stuff. It finally all came together.” Charlie shook his head. “I’m really sorry, Grady. I know you were doing it for a good reason.”
“Which is why I don’t want to stop.” Grady sat down in the chair. “Let me think about this and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Great,” Charlie said. “Something else to look forward to.”
The next morning, Allie still hadn’t thought of a plan, even after talking the whole mess over with Joe.
“There’s a mandatory prison sentence for possession,” he told her. “And Bill isn’t going to be much help once he finds out Grady’s been getting his mother stoned.”
“That’s a stupid law,” Allie said. “The stuff is medicinal, for heaven’s sake.”
Then Joe opened the paper, said, “Oh, hell,” and handed it to her.
There was a picture of Charlie putting Miranda on the bus, captioned Local DJ Abandons Pregnant Wife. Allie stared at it grimly. She was furious with Charlie, but he didn’t deserve this.
Then she had a new thought. How had the photographer known to be at the bus station? Somebody had tipped off the paper. Somebody at WBBB.
This one they couldn’t blame on the mayor. She got dressed and went into the station early.
Allie was standing outside the booth when Mark came out at ten.
“Allie!” He all but ran over Lisa to get to her. “What a great surprise!”
“I decided to take you up on that lunch offer.” Allie told him. “You free now?”
“We have a conference after every show,” Lisa put in. “Sometimes they last a long time.”
“Not today.” Mark took Allie’s arm. “Well skip it today.”
“But Mark,” Lisa said.
“Forget it.” Mark steered Allie toward the lobby. “This is just great. I’ve got a lot I want to tell you.”
“Good,” Allie said. “There’s a lot I want to hear.”
“It just hasn’t been the same without you,” Mark began when they were seated at the Settle Inn. “I’ve been-”
“You’ve been busy,” Allie said. “That was you who played all those tricks on Charlie, wiping the tapes, stealing his promos, making the prank calls.”
“Well…” Mark seemed at a loss. “I may have gone too far, but it was all-”
“And then you gave the story about Charlie’s wife to the paper. That was a good one.” Allie tried to keep her voice noncommittal.
He looked at her warily. “I might have mentioned it.”
“Why?”
“Well, Lisa called me and told me about it, and I thought that the people of Tuttle should know what kind of guy he is.” Mark shifted in his chair. “You know, leaving his wife pregnant and all. I thought you should know, too. He’s not the kind of guy for you, Allie.”
Allie fought down the urge to reach across the table and strangle him. “Oh? And what kind of guy is?”
Mark took a deep breath. “Well, me.” He held up his hand to stop her protest. “I know I made a mistake when I broke up with you, but believe me, I know it now. I was stupid. You want me to come crawling back, I will. Whatever you say.”
Allie shook her head at him in disgusted amazement. “And what about Lisa? She’s been working her butt off for you.”
“Lisa’s a child.” Mark settled back in his chair. “A lovely child, but still a child. The experience I’ve given her will look good on her resume-”
“Oh, you want me back as a producer.” Allie nodded. “I misunderstood.”
“No, no! I want you back completely.” Mark leaned forward. “I think we should get married.”
“Married.” Allie nodded. “Married. You’re going to go back across the street and tell Lisa that you’re dumping her as your producer and your girlfriend to marry me.”
“Absolutely.” Mark beamed at her. “I’m a big enough man to admit my mistakes.”
“You’re a dweeb.” Allie stood up. “If you do anything else to sabotage Charlie’s show, I will tell Bill and insist that he fire you. I mean it. Stay away from Charlie. And while you’re at it, stay away from me.”
“Allie!” Mark stood up to follow her.
“No.” Allie put out her hand to stop him. “I can’t believe you pulled this stuff just to save your career. What did you think you were doing?”
Mark blinked at her. “What you taught me to do. Make the show the best.”
“I never taught you to sabotage other shows to do it,” Allie said, appalled, but she knew he was right. The entire time she’d been with him, the show had been everything. She’d just forgotten to teach him morals before she’d left. “There’s more to life than radio, Mark.”
“Not to my life,” he said, and she felt sorry for him because he was right again.
“Go make up with Lisa,” she told him. “You’re going to need her.”
“Harry told me you had lunch with Mark today,” Charlie said when she walked into the booth at ten.
“Harry told you right.” Allie handed him the notes and the promos.
“Have a good time?”
“He asked me to marry him.” Allie turned and walked out of the booth to the production table.
“He what?” Charlie snapped over the headset.
“He offered me the prime-time producing slot, too,” Allie said through her mike. “The news is almost over. Stand by.”
“Screw the news,” Charlie said. “Did you say yes?”
Allie glared at him. “What possible difference could it make to you since you’re leaving tomorrow?”
“None,” Charlie said. “Did you say yes?”
“No,” Allie said. “I said no.”
“Could we stop fighting and talk about this?” Charlie asked her once his heart was out of his throat.
“Why?” Allie looked at him miserably. “Nothing’s changed. I told him to stop sabotaging your show, but I don’t know why I bothered. You’re leaving tomorrow. You’re turning Grady in. It’s all over, anyway.”
Charlie looked at her just as miserably and said, “All right. Whatever you want.” The news went off and he moved up the mike slide and said, “Good evening, Tuttle. You’re with Charlie All Night-”
Allie took off her headphones. He could do the broadcast without her by now. It wasn’t as if it mattered. It was his last show. He was going to be gone in another twenty-four hours and then she could put her life back together without him. She could hardly wait.
They did the rest of the show with silence between them, Charlie just playing music. The worst was when he did a Paul Anka double play for Sam-“Puppy Love” and “Put Your Head On My Shoulder”-and patted the puppy on his own shoulder until Sam gave up and went to sleep. She loved him so much then, she hurt with it. He only stopped to talk once, this time about the use of marijuana in treating the nausea associated with chemotherapy. He made a good persuasive argument, and Allie knew he was doing it for Grady’s sake, to prepare the way for Grady’s defense, but it wasn’t enough.
He was still going to turn Grady in.
She stayed until Grady showed up at quarter to two to take over the booth.
“Grady, I’m sorry,” she told him when he came in. “If there’s anything I can do…”
Grady shook his head. “Nope. I got myself into this. I’m ready.”
“Oh, Grady,” Allie said, but he’d already gone into the booth with Charlie.
Charlie plugged the news cassette in and she watched them as he gave Grady the chair and then leaned on the side of the booth to talk to him. Charlie looked like death, exhaustion and unhappiness making him haggard. For a moment, she relented because she loved him.
Then she went in to try one last time to convince him.
“You can’t do this.” she said when she was in the booth whh them. “I’ve tried and tried to think of a way around this, but I can’t. Joe says a prison sentence is mandatory. You can’t do this.”
Charlie closed his eyes against her. “It’s the law. I know Grady did what he did because he loves his mother-”
“He saved her life,” Allie broke in. “She couldn’t eat. He saved-”
“But the law is the law,” Charlie went on inexorably. “He broke it.”
Allie looked at Grady for help. “I don’t believe this. The law is stupid. In fact, the law is wrong-”
“Listen to me,” Charlie said and the intensity in his voice stopped her inmidsentence. “One of the biggest problems this country has is that people think a law is only a law if they agree with it. And if they don’t, it’s all right to kick guys like Joe out of the service and bomb abortion clinics because there’s a higher law at work. And that’s garbage, Allie. The law is the law. If you don’t like it, change it. But don’t break it and then start whining when there are consequences.”
“But they won’t change it,” Allie snapped. “Politicians are such cowards when it comes to legalizing any drugs that they’d rather see people die than risk their careers. It’s not going to change. And it’s wrong.”
“The law is the law,” Charlie said. “You can’t choose which part of it you like and which you’re going to ignore. It’s not a salad bar, Al. The whole thing stands, or the whole thing goes. And Grady broke the law.”
“And you’re going to turn him in.” Allie stood there, her eyes blazing at him in contempt. “Good old by-the-book, my-way-is-law Charlie. I bet you look a whole lot like your father now.”
Charlie winced, and Grady stood up and said, “Wait a minute.” His voice was low and mild but it cut through her anger. “Thanks for the defense, Al. I appreciate it. But Charlie’s right. Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.” He turned to Charlie. “I’m only asking one favor. Don’t turn me in until tomorrow morning. Let me finish the show and tell my mom and dad first.”
Charlie knew he was right, and he’d never felt worse in his life, knowing he was ruining Grady’s life, knowing Allie would probably never speak to him again. It was a lot to pay for being right. “Of course I won’t,” he told Grady.
Grady looked him in the eye. “I won’t run.”
Charlie swallowed. “I know that. Oh, hell, Grady.” He cast around for something to say.
Grady sat back down in the console chair. “It’s not your problem anymore,” he told Charlie as he picked up the headphones. “In fact, if I hadn’t started doing this, you wouldn’t have been here at all. So it’s always been my problem. Sorry I dragged you into it.”
“I’m sorry you did, too,” Allie said.
Charlie looked at her. “I’m not sorry. I wouldn’t trade these past weeks for anything.”
“Well, I would,” she said, and there were tears in her voice. “I’d trade them for Grady’s freedom. You’re going to send him to prison. Do you know how long he’ll be there? Do you know how awful-”
“Allie, let it go,” Grady said. “I’m not a kid. Stop treating me like one. This isn’t Charlie’s fault.”
“Well, it sure looks that way to me,” Allie said and walked out of the booth, and Charlie felt all the warmth and air leave the room with her.
He was right. He knew he was right.
But being right without Allie was lousy. And that was going to be the story for the rest of his life.
Grady rubbed his forehead. ‘‘She’ll calm down. She’ll see there was nothing else you could do.”
“Will she?” Charlie sat on the edge of the console and thought about what he’d done and how he felt about Grady. “I’m not even sure there was nothing else I could do. You’re not a criminal.”
“Well, yeah, I am.” Grady said. “I committed a crime. I’m pretty sure that makes me a criminal.”
“And she was right about something else.” Charlie looked unhappily at Grady. “I’m acting just like my father. And yours. Rigid.”
Grady shook his head. “My dad told me about your brother. Your father covered up your brother’s crime. You’re doing the opposite. You’re on the side of the angels.”
“Pretty lousy angels.” Charlie tipped his head back. “I know I’m right. My dad knew he was right. Bill always knows he’s right. I’m everything I never wanted to be. I’ve spent my whole life refusing to have anything to do with people so that I’d never try to control anybody. And now I’m alone and still controlling people. What I should do is just leave town now. I know you’ll tell Bill, so my job’s done.” He felt so tired his bones ached. “I should just go now.”
“And leave everybody?” Grady looked incredulous. “Not say goodbye to Harry or Joe or Karen? Or Allie?”
Charlie laughed shortly. “I don’t think Allie will talk to me long enough to let me say goodbye.”
Grady watched him for a moment and then shrugged. “Then go. I’ll tell them all you said so-long.” He straightened as the music stopped and leaned in to the mike to begin his show intro, and Charlie backed out of the booth as soundlessly as possible. He listened to Grady for a few minutes, talking about herbal teas this time, and then he picked up his coat and left.
Allie drove around for a while, trying to make sense of what had happened. Charlie’s arguments sounded right, but there were Grady and Beattie and Mrs. Winthrop, and they weren’t wrong. So how could Charlie be right? There should have been a simple answer, and there wasn’t.
She stopped and picked up cashew chicken and potstickers because she was unhappy and starving and because it was what she wanted, for some reason.
Then she went home and turned on Grady’s show, and thought about the mess some more.
She wanted to hate Charlie for what he was going to do to Grady, but she didn’t. She loved him. And tomorrow was November and he was leaving, and she’d be alone again, picking up the pieces he’d left behind him.
Well, not alone. She had Joe. And Harry. And Karen and Marcia, and even Mark and Lisa weren’t a complete loss. And Bill and Beattie and most of all Grady. She’d be working her butt off for Grady because he deserved it. She’d find a way to keep him out of jail.
And she’d get the prime-time show back. Mark would take her back in a heartbeat: the last thing he needed was her making some new bozo the flavor of the month the way she’d done with Charlie. He still didn’t get it that she hadn’t done it alone. That they’d been a team.
Allie closed her eyes for a moment because it hurt so much to remember that. In the background, Grady was playing some weird chanting music. Who would play the weird stuff while Grady was in prison?
The doorbell rang, and Allie went to get it, assuming Joe had forgotten his key and grateful he was home to comfort her.
But when she opened the door, Charlie said, “Can we please talk about this?”
Allie stood silent, staring at him as he filled her doorway. She blinked back tears and tried to breathe. The worst thing she could do would be to cry all over him; he was her problem, not her solution. But he stood there, tall and broad and solid and safe, and he sure looked like all her solutions for the rest of her life.
And tomorrow was November and Grady was going to jail.
He came in and closed the door and took her hand and pulled her over to the couch. Then he sat down beside her, and she held herself rigid so she wouldn’t lean into him, trying not to collapse against him, furious with him for what he was doing to Grady, loving him so much she was paralyzed with it.
“I don’t want to leave it like this,” Charlie said. “This is not the way we do things. Scream at me or something, but don’t walk away from me.”
Allie swallowed, and her voice came out strained. “I don’t know what to scream. I know you’re right. And I know you’re wrong. And I’m so tired, and you’re leaving anyway.” She tipped her head back and stared at the cracks in the ceiling. One of the cracks curved around itself and looked vaguely like Australia so she concentrated on that. All her other thoughts hurt too much.
“My father got my brother off the hook on his drug charge,” Charlie said. “Bought off the witnesses and slung Ten’s butt into a rehab center. He got Ten so buried, he couldn’t even call his girlfriend. But he solved the problem. My mother was not embarrassed. My brother was not jailed. And the law, well, the law is for the little people.”
Allie turned at the pain in his voice. “Charlie, you don’t have to-”
“Yeah, I do.”
She could see how seriously he was looking at her, and she was too tiied to argue. “All right. Tell me.”
“He fixes everything the way he wants it.” Charlie said. “He wanted Ten to be a success and he was. Only Ten had to deal drugs to get it. And he wanted me to settle down, so he sent me here. Bill didn’t give a damn about that letter. He was doing my dad a favor, give his son a job, make him settle down. That’s what my dad told Bill. I know it.”
“Well, he didn’t get what he wanted there,” Allie said. “You’re leaving tomorrow, “You’ll-”
“And I’m doing the same thing,” Charlie went on. “I did what I was sent to do, fix Bill’s little anonymous-letter problem.” He looked at Allie. “I know I’m right on this. But it feels wrong. It feels like my father. It feels lousy.”
“You’re not your father.” Allie’s voice was firm. “You refuse to take any responsibility for anything. You never tell anybody what to do.”
“Why does that sound so bad?” Charlie slumped back against the couch. “I thought it was a solution, but it’s as bad as the problem.” He shook his head. “I packed my car tonight. I figured my job was done, and I hated what was happening so I thought I’d just leave. Let you play opera until you found another schmuck to make into a star.”
Allie latched on to his mistake. “I didn’t make you a star. You did. Your personality and your brains and your talent.”
“We did.” He looked at her then. “We did it together.”
Allie closed her eyes because it hurt too much to look at him. “Don’t. It’s over. You’re leaving.”
“No, I’m not,” he told her. “I can’t. I can’t leave you. I love you. I can leave Tuttle, but I can’t leave you. I don’t ever want to spend another day without you.” He leaned toward her, and his voice was taut. “I was going to leave this whole mess behind. I got in the car to go, and then I just sat there and thought, ‘Where the hell am I going?’ Because without you, there isn’t anyplace else to go. You’re all there is.”
All the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Allie felt pain in her chest and heat behind her eyelids where tears pressed, and she couldn’t move from all the emotion that was choking her.
When she didn’t say anything, Charlie added, “Say something, please. I’m dying here.”
She tried to suck some air into her lungs. She was having trouble breathing. And speaking. “I…” The words died.
Charlie took her hand. “I love you, Al. It’s not about sex or the bet or the show. I love you. I don’t know, with what I’ve done, if that’s enough, but I do love you.”
“It’s enough,” she said, and her voice broke. “It’s enough.” She swallowed. “I’m really mad at you, and I hate what you’re doing to Grady…”
“I know.”
“But I love you,” she said, and as she said it, any doubts she had disappeared forever. “I love you so much sometimes I get dizzy when I look at you. I feel good when I’m with you. I feel right. I think you’re wrong here, but I don’t think I could stand life without you.”
He bent to kiss her, and she held her breath and felt his lips on hers, warm and gentle and everything he was, and she kissed him then, with all the love she had for him, memorizing him, breathing with him as his mouth grew hot on hers.
“Don’t ever leave me,” he said against her lips, and she almost laughed because she wasn’t the one with the need to leave, but then the chanting on the radio stopped and Grady’s voice broke in.
“This will be my last show for a while, Tuttle,” he said, and they both turned to listen to him, their heads close. “I’ve been breaking the law, and tomorrow morning, I’m turning myself in. I had a long talk with a friend tonight, and he pointed out that the law is a fine thing, even when it’s wrong. It’s the only defense we have against anarchy, against the strong overwhelming the weak. And if it’s wrong, well, then it’s our job to change it. I’ve been giving away marijuana to chemotherapy patients because it helps them withstand the nausea the treatments cause, but it’s against the law. I think it’s time this law was changed, and tonight’s the only night I have left to talk about it before I go to jail. If you’re listening and you have an opinion, call in. The number is-”
“Grady is the only person I know who could make his arrest a call-in topic,” Allie said when she’d recovered her voice. “What do you suppose he’s been doing for the past hour while all that music played?”
Charlie let go of her. “He’s been talking to his father,” he said. “I called Bill and told him.”
Allie sat up. “You what?”
Charlie sighed. “I called Bill and told him that Grady was doing something important that had probably saved Beattie’s life, and that now it was Bill’s turn to stick his neck out. He yelled a lot, but I think he saw the light at the end. I think he’s going to fight for Grady. When I hung up, he was making a plan. If nothing else, it should be interesting to see what happens next.” He picked up the chicken carton from the table in front of them and began to eat, and when Allie stole a look at him, he looked almost relaxed.
All right. It wouldn’t have been her way of handling it, but at least he was handling it. Getting involved. And he might just be right. “I bet Bill’s not the only one making a plan,” she told him, picking up the potstickers. “I bet Beattie’s working on a beaut.”
“You should have gotten more food,” Charlie said. “This chicken is going to be gone in no time.”
They sat close on the couch and finished the chicken and the potstickers while they listened to Grady and his callers, all of whom seemed ready to march on city hall to spring him if necessary. Of course, they were all Grady’s callers, and anyone who would listen to Grady at three in the morning was already fanatically loyal, but it did reassure Allie. Even more reassuring was having Charlie near. She finally fell asleep on Charlie’s shoulder while he listened to Grady’s show, and she didn’t wake up until he shook her at five-thirty. “Come on,” he told her softly. “Let’s go back in and see if Grady needs help after the show.”